


Then and Now

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bonding, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Past and Present, Reminiscing, The fluff is fluffy, You Have Been Warned, bruce centric, he tries, most characters besides Bruce have few actual lines, pre and post under the red hood, the angst is angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 04:52:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11350248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: A series of vignettes exploring Bruce's life while Jason was dead and after he came back.





	Then and Now

**Author's Note:**

> Written based on a request on Tumblr.

Mornings were an automatic thing for Bruce. Wake up, dress, trudge down to breakfast. Then sit with the paper, coffee, and, if his appetite allowed it, whatever Alfred prepared for him. It was a rhythm Bruce knew well, one that he fell into any time the manor was even remotely quiet.

He used to be content with it. Happy in the monotony and the quiet, comfortable even, but one does not know what they’re missing until they’ve had and lost.

He stood in front of his mirror and buttoned up his shirt, ears and listened for the rushed footfalls of small socked feet, and the inevitable crash of his door flying open into it’s new doorstop. He waited for a young voice to demand that he hurry or they’d be late, ‘and Bruce I can’t be late this morning, Mrs. Green asked me to come in early to help on a project’. It didn’t come. It never did, not in a long time. He wasn’t sure why he still listened for it.

Breakfast was the same. He pushed his bowl of oatmeal away from him, and picked up his coffee instead, trying not to hope for the appearance of a boy long gone. His eyes fell on a chair across from him. Well not quite across, Jason had insisted he sit at an angle so he could watch for Alfred. Was it strange to still wish that the seat was filled?

He lifted his paper, eyes going to the black and white on the page in front of him to keep him from searching for ghosts.

Knuckles rapped lightly on a wall before his newest Robin stepped into the room. Bruce looked up and watched as Tim stepped in, arms loaded with papers. He stepped around the chair that had caught Bruce’s attention and sat in the one next to it, right across from him, papers spilling out onto the wood of the table.

“Morning. I should be on the way to school, but I wanted to drop by and show you what I dug up last night.” There wasn’t a smile on his face, but his words held a hint of excitement at whatever he’d discovered.

Bruce managed to pull his eyes away from the chair, and onto Tim. Quiet, kind, and always ready to work. A part of Bruce wished this happened more often, Tim sneaking over to the manor before school to go over case files. Maybe that would help ruin his routine a little bit, and fill in some of the holes. He couldn’t do that to the boy, though, he got too little sleep as it was, and had his own routines to account for. No, he’d handle his quiet mornings by himself. He’d enjoyed them once, he could bear them now.

* * *

Bruce’s eyes cracked open to the noise of something crashing downstairs. He combed his hair, and pulled on his clothes for the day to the sound of raised voices. His own feet were quiet on the stairs as below him at least two pairs of feet chased each other.

He accepted a mug of coffee and his paper from Alfred, ignoring the pointed look that said “do something” and sat down for breakfast at a table as loud and chattering as the noise echoing down the hallway.

“Morning, B.” Dick said, from beside him.

“I thought you left last night, for Bludhaven?” Bruce asked.

Across the table, Steph pointed a fork at Dick. “Alfred promised him pancakes if he stayed.” she told him, before turning back to her own stack.

“Alfred’s pancakes are enough to tempt anyone to stay.” Dick said. “Besides, today’s my day off. I figured I’d stick around for a while longer.”

Bruce opened his mouth to remind him that hadn’t been his plan the night before, when Cass cut him off.

“Damian and Tim promised to be nice.”

He nodded, and grinned at Dick. “I may ask you to move back in if they keep that promise.”

There was a crash from the livingroom and Bruce’s grin turned to a grimace. “Unless that’s them now.”

His son and daughter exchanged a look that told him he probably wasn’t going to like the answer to that thought. Before he could begin to question them the pounding feet came sliding into the kitchen in the form of Damian and Tim, together.

“Grayson, you must do something, he’s gone mad.” Damian said, at the same moment Tim was talking.

“Bruce, morning. But uh, I think you may want to, I don’t know close your eyes?”

Bruce didn’t have time to figure out what either were talking about before Jason crashed into the room, hair coated in what Bruce prayed was an easily washable pink goo, carrying what he also hoped was just a water gun.

“Don’t think you two can escape from me in here, Dickie’s on my side for this one.” He said, before noticing Bruce. He stopped, the water gun lowering to point at the ground, and gave Bruce a half wave. “Bruce, I didn’t know you were up.”

He raised an eyebrow at his second oldest. “And, I didn’t think you’d stayed the night. Was it the promise of Alfred’s pancakes again?”

“Sure, we’ll go with that.” Jason said.

Bruce sighed at the lie, either way he wasn’t sure he minded. He might change his mind when he saw the state of the rest of his house and figured out what had caused his two youngest to have it out for Jason, but for now he didn’t care. His kitchen was full and loud and he couldn’t be happier.

* * *

It was one of those days. The kind where Bruce had piles of work to do and the attention span of a toddler to do them with. His eyes kept drifting from the contract he was supposed to be reviewing to the pictures on his desk. Dick, the first time he’d visited Bruce at work. Alfred, Barbara, and Dick at a cookout. Steph and Tim at a school event. Dick in his policeman's uniform with Bruce hugging him. One lucky shot he’d gotten of Cass and Barbara together, smiling at some inside joke they were playing.

He was consciously keeping his attention away from the last one, tucked right at the corner of his desk, still within the circle of pictures, but aside from them all the same. Even so, on days like this Bruce could never not look at it. Just the same as he’d never been able to box it up.

His fingers brushed the black frame. Jason and Bruce on a normal Saturday, inside reading together. Jason’s back pressed up against Bruce’s side, a book held out before him, with Bruce himself looking down at the boy, his own book forgotten in his lap. It was one of the last pictures Alfred had taken of them together.

“Good morning Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce’s hand darted away from the picture as he looked up and attempted a smile. “Good morning, Alice. What can I do for you?”

Alice offered him a coffee from a cardboard carrier she had in one hand. “Coffee run.” she smiled.

He took it from her. “Right, I’d forgotten. I’m not used to having coffee delivered to me at work.” he set the cup down by his mouse. “How are you liking things? They’re giving you more to do than get coffee right?” Alice was the newest of the summer interns Wayne Enterprises had hired. Bruce liked her, she was bright and cheery, and eager to help when he saw her.

She nodded. “Oh, yes. I’m learning all kinds of things, I love coming in, even when I pull the coffee straw.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He said.

“If you don’t mind my asking, is that your family?” she nodded down to the pictures. “You were so wrapped up in looking at the pictures you didn’t hear me come in.”

Bruce nodded. “They are.” He motioned for her to step around to get a better look at them and listed everyone, and what they were doing.

“And him,” she motioned to Jason. “You were pretty caught up in that one. I bet there’s a good story with that picture.” she grinned.

Bruce’s own smile fell. “That’s Jason.” he said. “He liked reading, and learning, and picking on me with both of them. But he’s gone now.”

Alice stepped back, “Mr. Wayne, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to... I thought... I’m so sorry.”

He gave her a soft smile. “It’s alright, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have weighed you down with that. Jason hasn’t been here for a long time, I should be better at talking about him at this point.”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to be better about it. He was your son, I think that gives you the right to miss him, and be sad no matter how long he’s been gone.”

* * *

Bruce’s collection of pictures on his desk had grown, even if his desk hadn’t, which was beginning to be a problem since he kept knocking them down to make room for paperwork. He’d have to consider moving some to rest on shelves or his bookcase.

He was in the middle of picking up the domino mess he’d made of them when the phone on his desk rang. Picking up the receiver knocked down another two. He sighed.

“Morning, Mr. Wayne.” Alice’s chipper voice greeted him on the other end.

“Alice, did I forget a meeting?” he asked, frowning. 

“Not today, sir. You have guests at the front.”

“Guests?” he asked.

“They seem eager to see you, should I send them up?”

Nothing in her tone told Bruce his visitors were work related, or something to worry about so he told her to let them up. She seemed excited enough by the idea, bringing a smile to his face. Hiring her as his assistant had been a good move. She was a great people person, easy to work with, and always brought his mood up.

He managed to get his pictures to stand back up when by the time Alice opened his door and Jason and Dick stepped in. Well Dick stepped in, then pulled Jason in behind him.

“Thanks, Alice. We’ll be sure to bring him back in a reasonable amount of time.” Dick said, over his shoulder.

“Bring me back?” Bruce raised an eyebrow at them both.

“We’re grabbing lunch, the three of us.” Dick said.

Jason shrugged his brother’s hand off his arm and stepped around to look over Bruce’s bookcase. “Dick thinks it’ll be a ‘bonding’ experience.” he said, eyes still on the books. Bruce could hear the air quotes in his voice.

“And you, Jay? Do you want a bonding experience or free lunch?”

Now his son turned to him, a grin on his face. “I’m always up for free lunch, even better when it’s on you.”

Jason’s eye caught on the cacophony of pictures on Bruce’s desk and he whistled. “Got enough photos to start your own museum there B.” he walked over to scan the mess of them.

Bruce didn’t have them set in any kind of order, it was mostly based on how recently he’d bought it in and what space was left. Every time Alice came in she eyed the photos and always asked to see the new ones. He’d had to come up with a different backstory for the new ones of Jason, but she’d never seemed to notice the similarities between the younger and older pictures of his son.

“You kept this one?” Jason said, hand scooping up the one of him younger.

Out of his periphery Bruce saw Dick turn towards them, slight tension in his shoulders. The past was still touchy with Jason, even as far as they’d come. But this time Bruce didn’t think Dick needed to worry.

“It was too good a shot of you not to.” Bruce said. “Did you know they made a movie of that book?”

Jason returned the picture to it’s place and turned to Bruce. “I hope they didn’t screw it up.”

“Can we talk while we walk?” Dick suggested, “I promised Alice we’d have you back in reasonable time and I haven’t even gotten you out of the building yet.”

“Of course.” Bruce stood and grinned at him, then turned back to Jason as they left the room. “I wouldn’t know about the movie. I never saw it.”

“Well, we’ll have to fix that won’t we?” Jason said.

Bruce shut the door behind him. “Yes, we will.”

* * *

If Bruce had thought he’d had a hard time focusing at work, his attention span while looking at the computer in the cave was even worse. He’d been staring at the login screen for a solid half hour before he realized he’d zoned out.

He hadn’t even been thinking about anything, just letting his mind wander in the way it did when his body was awake but his mind too bogged down to rest on anything.

He propped his chin on his bridged fingers, elbows resting on the desk in front of him. He was tired, not in a lack of sleep way, but mentally. It was worse than he’d been willing to admit to Alfred earlier as he’d pushed his food around on his plate. There he’d insisted he was fine, that he had work to do, that, with Tim out of town, he could get some good use out of his time alone.

Sometimes he wished he wasn’t so good at talking his way out of breaks.

He pushed his chair back, restless in his body, but unwilling to commit to work or practice, or anything further than a little space between him and the computer.

It was times like these that Jason used to suggest they take the night off. He was the first one to understand the way Bruce felt when he was tired like this. Dick’s answer was always movement, a desire to push past the exhaustion and work out whatever was causing his brain to misfire. But Jason understood the need to just do nothing and let his brain rest.

He’d find Bruce staring blankly at the computer like he was doing now, or at documents in his office. The first time Bruce had actually been slouched into the couch. Jason just sat next to him and suggested a night off. It hadn’t taken much convincing to get Bruce to agree. The promise of a movie or game, and some quiet time where neither of their brains had to do much was temptation enough.

It had become their thing. If one was feeling off the other usually picked up on it and they’d take the night off. It wasn’t often, but it was nice to have permission to take it easy with someone else.

Maybe he should take the night off tonight. Head to bed early with a book or something and forget his responsibilities for the night. Gotham could handle one night without him. Except, he couldn’t. His brain suddenly flooded with all the what-ifs of what might happen that night. People that might be hurt, criminals that could get away, crimes that needed stopping.

That was his problem, he couldn’t convince himself to take the night off. With Jason it had been easy to set one responsibility aside for another, Jason instead of Gotham. But wasn’t it his willingness to trade responsibilities that got him into this mess in the first place? Gotham for Jason. A missile for Jason. Joker for Jason.

Protecting Gotham, and it’s people was the only thing he could do to make up for his failure. Working to make sure no one ever lost a son again. But Bruce could also hear Jason in his ear, reminding him that he wouldn’t be any good to anyone if he couldn’t focus. That sometimes a night off was the best thing for everyone.

Which was right? Resting or continuing the fight? Which meant he wasn’t shirking any responsibility? Which wasn’t him trading the memory of his son for something else?

* * *

“I told you he’d be down here.”

At the sound of Jason’s voice, Bruce didn’t bother to look up from the computer. He had a few more codes to log in and distractions now would set him back hours.

“Bruce, I know I’m not really the one who should be saying this. But you need a break. Alfred says you’ve been working since lunch.” Tim stopped beside Bruce’s chair.

A hand flopped on the top of the other side, and Bruce caught Jason leaning over to look at the computer.

“You can finish this later.” he said.

“I need to finish this now.” Bruce ground out, attention veering from the screen for a moment.

A hip bumped into the side of his chair, jolting it and Bruce’s hands on the keyboard. “Well make it fast. Steph has threatened to leave for something more interesting three times now, the demon brat’s getting antsy, and Dicky’s running out of excuses for you.”

Bruce paused and looked up at Jason, frowning. “What are you talking about?”

Tim answered from his other side, “Movie night, Bruce. Did you forget?”

He had forgotten. He’d gotten so caught up in testing a new system on his lenses he’d lost track of everything but the work in front of him.

Jason’s hand went to cover part of the keyboard, “Don’t tell me I made the trip over here just so you could stay cooped up in the cave while I have to deal with everyone else watching some movie you picked out weeks ago. It’s not happening.”

He gave them both an apologetic smile. “Listen, give me five minutes and I’ll be up there.”

Jason nodded. “You heard the man, Tim. Set your watch for five minutes.”

Bruce turned his head to see Tim roll his eyes and tap on his phone and grin at him. “Timer set, better get typing, Bruce.”

Bruce did. He had a feeling the moment Tim’s phone went off announcing the end of his five minutes he’d be heading upstairs whether he wanted to or not.

* * *

Batman pulled the Batmobile into an alley and jumped out, locking it down behind him. There was no one to wait for, so he pushed forward, down the alley and towards the old building he’d be spending the night staking out.

Lately Bruce patrolled alone. Tim was away with his friends. Dick in Bludhaven. Cassandra and Barbara silent ends of a line. And Stephanie. Stephanie was gone.

He slowed his pace coming up on the building in question. No movement from the front, the lights all off. There were no cars there either. He pulled out his grapple and shot it at the roof.

He turned, mouth open to remind Stephanie to be quiet, and froze, arm still in the air. She wasn’t there, wouldn’t have been there anyway. He swallowed, mouth snapping shut. He jerked his head back in the direction of the roof and shot the grapple.

He found a good vantage point and settled in for the long wait. The quiet was deafening. He was so used to noise. He hadn’t been in his early days. Then, he wore the quiet like he wore the darkness, as a tool to aid his quest. Too soon that silence had been broken, by each of his Robins.

Dick chattered. Jason enjoyed himself. Tim was a steady presence. Steph had been a little of them all, so eager and ready to be Robin.

How many times had he shushed or told any of them that all the noise they were making was dangerous? He’d spent countless stakeouts like this one managing the noise, trying to keep bored chatter down to a minimum so they wouldn’t be caught. And now he’d give anything to simply be able to look over and mention how crappy the weather was or suggest burgers after patrol.

He’d ruined that. Taken his family he’d built piece by piece and torn it down. With words. Actions. Failures. With his stubbornness and pride.

It started with Jason.

Yes Dick had left first, but Bruce had never lost the hope that Dick would return someday. He and Dick were just too similar, he’d thought. It made sense that they would fight, that Dick would want his space, he’d decided. They were too hard headed and it was going to take a lot to work things out between the two, but things could be fixed. He’d promised himself things would be fixed.

And then Jason had died and the permanence of the event had inked its way into every aspect of Bruce’s life.

His family might have grown, but that didn’t take away the idea that Bruce could, was, going to lose them. He’d lost Jason, and now Steph. He might as well have lost the rest of them since they barely spoke to him anymore. 

He told himself it was better this way, that them staying far away meant they were safer that way, that he could keep them safe if he wasn’t worried about them being so close to him. He wouldn’t have to lose any more of them to death if he lost them in life.

It was of course a lie, but one he told himself to stay sane.

The Batman works alone. How many times had he said that? How many times had it been said in truth, and then in lie?

He hadn’t meant it. He wanted to scream that at the sky. The universe. Anyone who would listen.

He hadn’t meant it.

* * *

Patrol was a mess. And by a mess Bruce meant he had no control over any of the vigilantes currently working in his city. It didn’t matter that there was a plan or that there were rules, not a single one of his team was listening to him.

They were supposed to be on a stake out. Various stake outs around town. Yes, technically they were in their positions, but no one beyond him was paying any attention to what was going on below them.

“Hood, what are you doing? I told you to stabilize the--” Dick’s voice cut off over the comm as Jason cut in.

“If you’d listen, Wing, I’m trying to stabilize the stupid thing, give me a sec will ya?”

Steph’s voice cut in next. “Hey guys, does anyone know what we’re supposed to do next?”

It was fairly standard speech for patrol if there was a major problem, and if his kids were actually working on it. Instead, they were playing a game. Some app version of a board game Dick had thought would make a great time waster. Spaceteam or some other nonsensical name.

Next to Bruce, Damian clicked his own comm on and grumbled into it. “You’re all imbeciles, we’re going to crash if someone doesn’t stop the engine from overheating.”

“Robin.” he warned.

His son rolled his eyes up at him. “They are, if they think their version of teamwork will get us out of this mess.” Damian’s tone said that he’d quickly moved from defending his actions to his father, to pointing the statement at his siblings.

Bruce clicked his own comm on so that the family could hear him, even as he spoke to Damian. “It's all of your faults your in it instead of keeping an eye on your targets.”

“Come on B, we’ve got hours before anyone is supposed to show up. Loosen up a bit.” Dick said.

“Yeah, T-Red Robin downloaded the game onto your phone, join the fun and relax.” Steph said.

“This is patrol, not a relaxing Saturday in the summer.” Bruce growled.

Damian opened his mouth to argue (since when was Damian willing to argue for play on patrol?) but something on his phone started flashing red and his attention snapped back to it.

“Shake!” he heard Dick shout. “Shake like your life depends on it!”

They lost that round, and somehow (though peer pressure) convinced Bruce to join the next one. Damian gave him a quick overview of the controls and promised to keep an eye on the warehouse below them. They lost again, but by the end Bruce had gotten the hang of the game and allowed a third and final round. 

"If we don't win this one I'm counting it proof you all need more practice as a team." 

"Like a game's going to prove that." Jason scoffed. 

"I mean it, Jay. You'll all be running drills and I'll assign group patrols. You can go out first with Dick." 

"Nope." Jason's voice shot back. "No way. We're winning this everyone here and now."

* * *

Bruce had never had much of a bedtime routine. Alfred would scoff and say that exhausting oneself night after night so they can pass out from it was routine enough. Bruce might have agreed, he’d certainly fallen back on that option time and again to get him to sleep, except that practice was easily forgotten when he had children to take care of.

Every night was unpredictable, no matter how hard he tried to set some kind of schedule. It wasn’t always Dick or Jason’s fault. Some things couldn’t be prepared for, illness, injury, toxins, and surprise attacks from villains interrupted even Bruce’s best laid plans.

Things hadn’t been all bad though, some nights he’d sit up late with Dick or Jason and talk over cups of coffee and cocoa. Other’s he had the luck of being able to tuck them in, and make sure they were sleeping peacefully before he turned in himself. Those were the best nights, when he knew everyone in the house was happily asleep. Alfred having retired with a book, Jason tucked snuggly in his bed, and Bruce tired, but satisfied the house was in order, could fall into his own bed with no regrets.

Tonight he was too tired to sleep. He’d wrapped up patrol, showered, and planted himself in the kitchen with a mug of quickly cooling coffee in between his palms. He should try to get some rest, with a board meeting in the morning and a technology exposition in the afternoon he was going to need it. 

He simply couldn’t bring himself to climb the stairs and walk through the empty, quiet hallways. To pass the doors to rooms he knew were empty. To find himself alone in a bed that couldn’t even promise the interruption from a boy, seeking extra warmth beyond his own bed, or comfort from nightmares.

He’d finish his coffee and return to the cave to work on old case files, and exhaust himself enough that he might pass out for an hour or two at the desk before Alfred came to find him.

* * *

It was one of his nights off. The rare ones Bruce took because someone in his family convinced him that it was good for him. Only, Bruce couldn’t sleep. His brain wouldn’t let him. It was wired to be up for hours longer, working, strategizing, and staying in a high strung state long enough most people would tell him it was unhealthy.

He’d been laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, but his clock told him was only half of one. Sleep, at least at a reasonable hour, seemed impossible. He rolled out of bed, pulled on a robe, and grabbed the book he’d been slowly working his way through off his nightstand. He didn’t have enough time to read anymore, and both Damian and Jason had insisted he read this book, so maybe he’d take the time he wasn’t using to sleep with, and enjoy leisure reading.

He eased his way down the hall, past Damian’s room, hoping not to wake his son from one of his own rare early nights, and crept into the living room to lay on the couch. There was a lamp in the room that, when it was the only thing turned on, gave off a warm comforting light that dropped the room into almost sepia tones. The ambience was, in Bruce’s eyes, perfect for reading.

His reading was interrupted by the sound of someone tiptoeing past the room. Bruce looked up to see Jason, stopped in the doorway frowning at him.

“You should be in bed, Old Man.”

“Couldn’t sleep. You heading back?” Bruce asked.

Jason nodded. “Yeah.” Contrary to his words, he stepped into the room.

He shoved Bruce’s legs aside and plopped onto the couch next to him. “Patrol was quiet, it was a good night to take off.”

“Even if I didn’t get the sleep I wanted to?” Bruce asked.

“Even then.” Jason acknowledged. “What’re you reading?”

He tilted the book upwards so Jason could read the cover. His son grinned at him.

“You took my suggestion.

Bruce nodded down at it, slipping his bookmark in between the pages and closing it. “It’s quite good.” He’d lost hours into it that night, a much better trade for sleep in his opinion. Especially if it meant extending his conversation with Jason about it.

“Yeah? Where are you in it?”

He smiled and motioned Jason closer, opening the book again. “They’ve just discovered the third body.”

Jason whistled, already leaning in to look over the words. “Things start heating up from here on. Have you figured out who did it yet?”

Bruce answered that no he hadn’t he was trying not to play detective while reading, Jason rolled his eyes at him, and the two of them sat up reading together until they both nodded off on the couch. When Alfred came by in the morning he tugged a blanket over them both and left them to sleep.


End file.
